Letter from Lahore: Many dismayed at statute changes

When a little known general by the name of Pervez Musharraf so suddenly assumed charge of the country in October, 1999, many saw in him a ray of hope for the future.

His apparent commitment to the country, his low-key manner and perhaps most of all his willingness to listen to others and display a humbleness rare among political leaders, distinguished him from the many men in uniform who had similarly taken over power.

Today, nearly three years from the date, much has changed. In his latest speeches, Musharraf has shown an increased arrogance and much of the pomposity long associated with the country's leaders.

The man who was once so willing to hear criticism, to accept that his own knowledge of many matters was inadequate, has vanished to be replaced by one apparently extremely reluctant to relinquish even a part of his near absolute hold on power.

How this transformation came about is not easy to pin-point. The sycophancy that surrounds those holding high office, the unwillingness to peer beyond the rose-painted facade erected around leaders by those that surround them, and an apparent belief that he is indispensable to the nation, all seem to be factors in the changes seen in Musharraf.

Like so many before him, it would appear he has been unable to steer clear of these traps. The latest amendments announced by Musharraf exceed those put in place by his predecessors.

Disturbingly, they seem to be designed to place the maximum possible power in his hands and to take these away from any assembly elected by the people of Pakistan.

Not surprisingly, citizens have largely seen these moves as an indication that Musharraf too is no different to those who came before him. Comments heard as viewers gathered around television sets in Lahore's bazaars focussed firmly around the fact that Musharraf's main purpose seemed to be to secure lasting power for himself.

His repeated insistence that this was "in the national interest" convinced few. Most had heard the term too often, bandied around by others making decisions of questionable legality and merit.

The fact that the armed forces now have a permanent role in national affairs is too a matter that has drawn comment. In a city like Lahore, with multiple civic problems and mounting socio-economic grievances, the role played so far by the military has brought few dividends.

Most doubt that this will in any way change in the future, and the fact that the men in uniform manning so many offices have proved as susceptible to bribery and coercion as their civilian predecessors has also acted to undermine faith in them.

Indeed, many believe that this continued, close contact with civilians is damaging to the military itself as an institution. And, as it becomes clear that Musharraf is set to remain firmly in power, criticism of him is almost certain to increase.

In this respect many see the referendum of April 2002 as a key turning point. The images of laughing young men queuing up again and again to cast votes, of deserted polling booths and of government employees herded into balloting centres to vote acted to diminish what remained of the military government's credibility.

Tales of trains setting out from cities such as Multan, with passengers made to cast ballots at every stop before the train moved on, are now commonplace. Few doubts remain about how the referendum was won.

Musharraf's latest speech and his wide-ranging amendments have only reinforced perceptions about him. Today he is seen as a man desperate to cling to power.

The dedicated nationalist seen in 1999 has already metamorphosed, and the change is one that most people see as a largely negative one, ending hopes that he can provide the kind of dedicated leadership that citizens have been searching for over many years.